<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I only need you to know. by Yui_Miyamoto</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28123548">I only need you to know.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui_Miyamoto/pseuds/Yui_Miyamoto'>Yui_Miyamoto</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Loveless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2005-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2005-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:20:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28123548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui_Miyamoto/pseuds/Yui_Miyamoto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everyday, I try. Everyday, I fail,” Yayoi tells himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aoyagi Ritsuka/Hawatari Yuiko, Hawatari Yuiko/Shioiri Yayoi</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I only need you to know.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Disclaimer – Loveless isn’t mine.<br/><br/><br/></strong>Tuesday, March 20th, 20--<br/><br/>They’re whispering again.<br/><br/>“Did you see that?” one girl with two braided pigtails says as I pass by. It’s in that kind of voice that’s like a stage whisper. You know what I’m talking about. It’s the one where someone deliberately wants another person to hear him or her.<br/>A boy nods at her comment, but he has his back towards me.<br/><br/>There is no sympathy in these words or the looks in between their eyes. This is how people are when they’re only too quick to judge a situation according to their own interpretations.<br/><br/>And to tell the truth, it does nothing but disgust me. I know I should be beyond being annoyed, but it still gets to me once in a while on how shallow these people are. They’re my classmates. We’re all in the same grade, and even though our goals of trying to get through school and making friends are all the same, of course, the way we pursue these ventures are different.<br/>Then, in the end, we’re truly different because it’s not what we want is what separates us, but the extent on how far we want it.<br/><br/>I’m used to being alone, being told that I’m just too odd and my tastes are too peculiar that there’s no doubt (if anyone put on a futile bet) that no one would go for the same selection of things and people as me. If he or she does, then they’re freaks too.<br/>Well, that is assuming that classmates even know who I am.<br/><br/>Or even notice that I’m there.<br/><br/>I’m just known as ‘the boy who follows that tall, ditzy, bubble-headed girl’. And that’s fine by me. I don’t want to be acknowledged in another way, or by anyone else for that matter.<br/><br/>She opens the door and enters the classroom. As she’s about to close it, I shyly take a hold of the door and nod my head a little.<br/>“Sorry,” my love apologizes to me in a nonchalant way. “Didn’t know you were behind me. Yuiko’s really sorry.”<br/>“It’s okay.” I smile as I greet her as brightly as I possibly can. “Good morning, Yuiko-san.”<br/>“Good morning!” She pats my shoulder for a split-second and then flutters off to her group of friends.<br/><br/>I blink at them for a bit, but I don’t like them too much. Oh well, maybe I’m just jealous, but they don’t deserve her. Maybe she doesn’t realize it yet.<br/>People always have nice smiles when you do as you’re told.<br/><br/>Once I stopped doing that for some of the bullies that pestered me, I was secretly labeled as a pariah. Now, I’m used to it.<br/><br/>I begin to cough as I reach my desk. At least I was good enough to come to class today. My main goal was to see her any way.<br/><br/>She’s the only reason I come to school anyway. As far as I’m concerned, everything and everyone else is irrelevant, especially when your body fights against itself.<br/><br/>Everyone seems to take their health for granted.<br/><br/><strong>+/+/+/</strong><br/>September 28th, 20—<br/><br/>“Who will be class rep for this committee…?”<br/><br/>Her ‘friends’, as well as the rest of the class, wait for her to volunteer. No one else wants this job because they’re so self-important that they can’t possibly do anything else but spoil themselves.<br/>I raise my hand, but even the teacher says I can’t do it. Too many days absent from school and it might be too much work to carry supplies from one floor to another.<br/><br/>In the end, she smiles brightly at me and acknowledges what I’m doing. In the end, she’s being picked on again and I can’t stand it.<br/><br/>They, once again, want her to take up the burden of the class that each member should contribute towards. It doesn’t help that she’s only too naïve to see that it happens all the time.<br/><br/>And I can’t do anything. Nothing at all.<br/>I can’t protect her in any way.<br/><br/>I’m pathetic.<br/><br/><br/>But after school, I see her again. When people are going home, I pass by the social studies storage area to see her head down with a sleeve over her eyes. Tears come out as she holds onto the maps with her other arm.<br/><br/>I understand she’s not as dumb as people take her. She’s just a bit slower with coming up with negative conclusions.<br/><br/>Instead of this making me sad, I’m madder than before. As I’m about to come into the classroom, my heart acts up because of all the pressure. I reach out for the door, but I miss it.<br/><br/>I’ve fallen to the floor.<br/><br/><strong>+/+/+/+/+/</strong><br/><br/><br/>Days later, I look up to the white ceiling before me. And when I turn my head, I see the card set out in front of the small bouquet of flowers.<br/><br/>She’s been here. Deep in my heart, no one has to tell me.<br/><br/>“Get well soon,” it says. She’s forgotten to put her name.<br/><br/><br/>A tear comes out as I breathe with the oxygen mask over my mouth.<br/><br/>(Make sure to put the card and a dried flower onto the opposite page of this entry.)<br/><br/><br/><strong>+/+/+/+/+/+/+/</strong><br/><br/>October 7th, 20--<br/><br/>I confess to her.<br/><br/>I’m too heartbroken to write anymore about it.<br/><br/><strong>+/+/+/+/+/+/+/</strong><br/><br/>October 10th, 20—<br/><br/>That day, I actually called her out and poured my heart to her. (I’ll write more of this later.) And she tells me she doesn’t like me for being short and all these other weird reasons.<br/><br/>I don’t know what to make of it, but it hurts all the same. I don’t think it’s dawned on me yet. I’m taking one day at a time, but my heart is becoming stressed.<br/>I’m too tired to think about it, but it replays in my head.<br/><br/>I’m too stubborn to give up.<br/><br/>She hasn’t given me a chance to explain why I love her.<br/><br/>By now, everyone knows. I don’t care though. They can talk all they want and call me stupid for liking ‘such a girl like that’ or whatever. They’ve already done that all this time. What makes this time any different?<br/><br/>* tear stains *<br/><br/>She doesn’t understand the depth of how much I love her, no matter how old we are. She won’t let me tell her why.<br/><br/><strong>+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/</strong><br/><br/>December 5th, 20—<br/><br/>It’s been the same.<br/><br/>She talks to me less and less. Her smile is different even though she’s still polite to me.<br/><br/>Yuiko doesn’t want to talk to me anymore because I made things awkward. I curse myself for being too honest.<br/>I want to be more than her friend.<br/><br/>I can’t take this. Need to take medication now.<br/><br/><br/><strong>+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/</strong><br/><br/>[To lazy to look up the date, write in later.]<br/><br/>She’s been hanging around the new student. They’re talking about him too, but I don’t listen. They’re probably all just lies anyway, from the way they talk.<br/><br/>But one thing is true. With my own eyes, I’ve seen her hug him and care about him.<br/>I don’t like him, but he’s the person I wish I was to Yuiko-san.<br/><br/>I watch them even though I want to run away. And now, she completely ignores me. If she even talks to me, it’s so flat. I’m an afterthought.<br/>Still, I’ve got to grin at my fortune of being next to her.<br/><br/>I wail and I complain, but deep inside, I know I’m losing something more than her. Something more than myself.<br/><br/>What’s more than this is that she doesn’t know what she’s saying in front of me.<br/><br/>After school, he runs off with that tall blond guy. And she’s watching them with her fists clenched. She grins even though she wants to cry. She is doing the same exact thing I do for her.<br/>“Why can’t I ever do anything for him?” she mumbles quietly to herself.<br/><br/>More than anything, it doesn’t hit me until that very moment: She’s addressed herself as ‘I’.<br/><br/><br/>I bow and politely say goodbye. My words won’t mean anything to her, but I keep on crying. I don’t wail because my chest is cringing up again. My heart feels so heavy that I sleep on my bed for a looooong time.<br/><br/><br/>I slowly come to terms that there is no hope for me. My heart still won’t recognize this reality. Feelings are really scary things…<br/><br/><strong>+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/</strong><br/><br/>August 17th, 20—<br/><br/>Everyday, I try. Everyday, I fail.<br/>I want to cry and give up, like what my body wants to do as it fights itself.<br/><br/>But my mind and my heart won’t let me fail. I still keep on going after her.<br/>Sometimes, I wish I could kill ‘hope’.<br/><br/>Today, Aoyagi Ritsuka-san, Yuiko, and I hang out for lunch in our classroom. I sit there analyzing their interaction.<br/><br/>I start to see a bit of what she sees in him. He also has secrets he’d rather not say, but he speaks his mind as openly as he can.<br/>I can’t breathe though. I’m admiring my rival even though I know there’s no true battle.<br/><br/><br/>I can’t protect her with this body. She won’t talk to me like she used to.<br/>All the odds are against me.<br/><br/><br/>But I still carry on as if I’m always healthy. I pretend that I can do everything, especially if it’s for her.<br/><br/>After all, she’s the reason why I come to school.<br/><br/>* cries *<br/><br/><br/>I’ve written this a million times, but I’ll write it all over again. My feelings get deeper and my pen can’t handle it.<br/><br/>* ink bled*<br/><br/><br/>Why, you may ask, do I love someone like her?<br/><br/>One winter, I skipped school for a whole month. And when I came back, she greeted me with that warm smile of hers. She even knew my name.<br/><br/>“Yayoi-san, welcome back.”<br/><br/>No one else noticed I was even enrolled.<br/>Or even cared if I was alive.<br/><br/>That’s why I don’t care for anything else, even if you too ignore me.<br/><br/><br/>* sobs *<br/><br/>“Kamisama, grant me one opportunity to tell her and have her listen to me before I waste away.”<br/><br/><br/>My body might not be strong enough, but my feelings are. I believe they’ll push through someday.<br/><br/>So, in coming to school everyday, I have one more chance to tell you how much I love you.<br/>To show you the extent of what others can’t imagine.<br/><br/>I give this all to you, my Yuiko.<br/><br/>Who I was.<br/>Who I will be.<br/>Who I am.<br/><br/>Even when the time comes that I can’t say them aloud to you anymore,<br/>I only need you to know.<br/><br/><br/><strong>Owari.</strong></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was planning to do another fic for another fandom when suddenly, Yayoi came to mind. I don’t know why, but I don’t detest him or find him annoying. In fact, I kind of like him, considering that he can still go after Yuiko with his masochistic tendencies.<br/>I guess that’s why I spent my time with him today. ^_^</p>
<p>The reason why I made Yuiko say her own name is to acknowledge how she spoke (and addresses herself in Japanese, as little girls do when they’re young, ie. My pretty babe Rin from Inuyasha =^_^=) and her transition into ‘herself’ when Ritsuka does that whole “say ‘I’” bit. So, this piece may seem simple in nature, but I tried to integrate their characters together as best as I saw them, as best as I could interpret them. (As I recall, Yayoi was sickly in the manga. ^^;;;)<br/>Before I knew it, this came out in a format that was unexpected. And I liked the fic a lot because of that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>^_^</p>
<p>Love,<br/>Yui</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>